


An Unspoken Knowledge

by The_Butterfly_Mistress



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Autism, Brotherly Love, Family, Father-figures, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, autistic!Reid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 10:09:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3116183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Butterfly_Mistress/pseuds/The_Butterfly_Mistress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They all knew why Spencer was able to understand, able to communicate with Sammy. It was never spoken about, much like the reason why Reid could understand addiction so well and recite the 9 steps of recovery. They all knew though, and Spencer was aware they knew too. He was embarrassed, a bit ashamed, but also incredibly thankful."</p><p> Oneshot! Autistic!Reid</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Unspoken Knowledge

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! Wow, its been quite a while since I last posted anything. Fear not, the last chapter of Subconscious Comfort is almost done. There has also been several who want a 3rd chapter in the 2-shot for Comforting Rogue, so I guess I"ll be working on that now too. I am currently working on another CM fanfiction, its in the early stages though. So, I have been busy. This oneshot hit me in the middle of the night, so I got it written in a few hours and had it typed up by today. I hope you all enjoy it and please do not give up on the other stories. I am working on them, as earlier stated. Let me know what you think!
> 
> TBM
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or its characters. I would love to meet them though! Especially Matthew Gray Gubler.

An Unspoken Knowledge  
They all knew why Spencer was able to understand, able to communicate with Sammy. It was never spoken about, much like the reason why Reid could understand addiction so well and recite the 9 steps of recovery. They all knew though, and Spencer was aware they knew too. He was embarrassed, a bit ashamed, but also incredibly thankful.

It was in the little things done to accommodate him, such as a readied weighted blanket on the jet and one in a go bag. They all had an extra pair of sunglasses, in case his got missing. JJ used a heavy hand to ruffle his hair and Morgan's half hugs were tight. Rossi made sure all the food he made had only the textures he liked, and Garcia knew just what topics to talk about to draw his attention out his own mind. The gentle reminders to ease him back to behaviors that were considered socially accepted were well appreciated. 

He was never more grateful that the team knew of his eccentric trait than when he had his episodes. High functioning as he was, they still happened. It never ceased to amaze him how it was always the widely thought insignificant things that set him off: actions, textures, smells, or sounds, that most people take for granted.

When his hands would flap and his tongue would not cease from unbridled excitement, they would stare calmly until they had his attention, or until he understood the message. During a case, it could be inconvenient to wait out a long winded speech for a point. They loved to see him happy, and didn't mind his endless chatter, but there was a time and place for everything. So after the cases were over, they tried to remember to ask him about the information he didn't get to fully share.

Despite all the horrors they saw everyday, the blood and gore never really affected his condition. However, being touched unexpectedly or by an unwelcome hand rarely didn't. The night he had been rescued from Tobias Hankel and his other two persona's in Georgia had been a particularly bad case. Quite traumatic really. Not for the expected reasons though. The beatings and drugs, the murders and near death, were awful and it would take a while to recover, but it was nothing compared to the ambulance ride or the medical examination.

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The hands, so many foreign hands, poking, prodding, every couple of minutes. The medical staff chalked up his reactions to PTSD, but Morgan and Gideon knew, they understood. Thankfully, Morgan had ridden with him to the hospital to make sure that the EMTs told him beforehand when they were going to touch him. However, the older agent wasn't allowed back into the examination room.

The nurses had made sure he was comfortable and left him to his thoughts while a doctor was informed the patient was ready to be seen. Spencer had sat patiently, humming and fidgeting nervously. He stretched his fingers out and closed his hand, repeating the process, over and over. The lights were bright and he was contemplating turning them off when a hand clasped onto his bony shoulder. 

He was screaming before his brain had fully processed the action. The distressed genius had wrenched himself off of the bed and away from the offender. He had huddled himself into a corner, hands over his ears, still screaming.

Derek had heard him though and had taken off in a hurry to reach him, Gideon and Hotch on his heels. The trio had barged through the group of nurses and security until they were right in front of their injured friend. Morgan sank down in front of him, Hotch to his left. Gideon whispered in hushed tones with the medical doctor.

Spencer became aware of himself again when the new sensation of padding touch the back of his skull. He hadn't even known he was slamming his head before he was no longer hitting the hard wall. Even so, he struggled to stay the motion. His throat was sore, but he was still emitting a low keening mewl. He registered Morgan's hands taking a hold of his wrists, then his voice, soft, calm, repetitive.

Reid focused on the words, always said in threes, before the pattern would change. “Hey, Spencer, you're okay. Everything is fine. You're in control here.” Repeated twice more and a new mantra began. “Ssh, you're fine now. I'm here now. So is Hotch and Gideon.” When the whimpering had tapered off and the glazed over irises began to clear, the black profiler had started to give gentle instructions. “Ok, Pretty Boy, I need you to stop throwing you're head back. Can you do that for me?”

Spencer had tried, he knew it would make them happy. There was no reason to continue the motion after all, but he just couldn't stop. A part him needed it still and he hated it. He vaguely recognized Hotch's hand being the barrier in front of the wall and he hated himself all the more. The noise inside his brain was loud and annoying, and was only abated by the persistent, intermittent smack.

He was brought back outside of his thoughts by Derek's consistent, comforting “Ssh”. It was a white noise to focus on. It halted his whining and steadied him. He reached out to grasp and rub his best friend's jacket between his fingers. The texture further grounded him and brought peace to the whirlwind that was his mental hard drive. It probably didn't help that he was entering withdrawal though.

He floundered to hold onto that logical thought and exit meltdown mode. When he was fully lucid again, Gideon was ready nearby with a cold glass of ice water. The liquid soothed his raw throat and he was fascinated by the feel of its trek from his esophagus to his stomach.

Exhausted, he sagged against Hotch, who moved to wrap the arm that had previously cushioned the shaggy head, loosely around his youngest agent. Reid didn't like loose though, and smashed himself against his boss's side. He was pleased to feel the pseudo-hug tighten.

As he began to doze, there was an insistent pull at his wrists. “Come on, Kid. You'll sleep better in the bed.” With a grunt he allowed himself to be hauled up and situated onto the hospital bed. His brain snapped to attention when the scratchy surface met his bare skin. His wide eyes sought out Morgan who shrugged off his jacket and manhandled Reid into it.

He snuggled down in the material, the comforting scent that was all Derek filled his nostrils as he rubbed the cuff of the right sleeve; a grateful sigh passed through a lazy smile. He heard Hotch tell Gideon that he was going to see about a mild sedative, so that the doctors could finish their job. He didn't care, he was content to let them take care of everything for the moment.

“Sleep, Kid. I'll still be here when you wake up. We got your back.”

Methodically, Spencer mentally went through each bone in the body, starting with the skull and finishing with his left foot. He drifted off soon after the 206th bone was listed.

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He had had other episodes, some nearly as bad, but they were few and far between. Thankfully, they rarely effected him in the field. On the jet, in the office, out and about, those were times that were easy to deal with. Each BAU agent was equipped and ready to step in, though they preferred to prevent Spencer's meltdowns, rather than fix the aftermath.

They never made him feel like a freak or a disabled agent. Never gave him reason to feel the embarrassment or shame that was a constant shadow. Rather, they emphasized encouragement, love, support. Dr. Spencer Reid was eternally grateful to Aaron Hotchner, Jason Gideon, Jennifer Jareau, Emily Prentiss, David Rossi, Penelope Garcia, and especially his best friend, Derek Morgan. They were a family. His family. And he wouldn't change a thing.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope everyone had a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! Don't forget to leave a review if you would please! I hope you enjoyed!


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